


Rely

by keysmash



Series: GENS 101 [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spn_30snapshots, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, F/M, Genderfuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-05
Updated: 2010-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keysmash/pseuds/keysmash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To trust, rely (or: a countdown).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rely

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt 4, trust, of my [Nanoshots table](http://latentfunction.livejournal.com/412560.html) for [spn_30snapshots](community.livejournal.com/spn_30snapshots). A [Sweetheart, this ain't gender studies](http://archiveofourown.org/works/110275) timestamp. Set during Swan Song.

She was pacing up and down a row of cars, letting Bobby roam at will around the house, when Sam found her. His hands were tucked deeply into his pockets, and he was walking with his head ducked a little, so his hair fell in his face, but he headed directly for her, like he knew where she was. Dean stopped walking and waited for him, watching him come to her. She wanted to memorize all of him, the set to his shoulders and the long lines of his legs, and then tried to stop herself. Dean knew a little about self-fulfilling prophecies, and there was no sense in acting like they were running out of time.

"Hey," he said, and stared at the ground close to her feet for a while before leaning against the car across from her.

Dean ran her hands through her hair and then wrapped it up, on the top of her head, with the hair tie she'd been wearing on one wrist. "Hey," she said back, because she didn't know what else to do. She stared at Sam for another moment and then looked away, sort of near his feet.

"We should head out in a little bit," he said, and Dean looked up at that. She'd forgotten just how quickly deadlines ran out on you. Sam met her gaze and his mouth twitched, like he was trying to smile, but eventually he just swallowed hard and looked back down.

"C'mere," Dean said, and hitched herself up to sit in the open truck bed she'd been leaning on. She patted the metal next to her, but Sam stood right in front of her, and Dean almost smiled as she moved her legs enough to let him stand between her knees. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to squeeze him as tightly as she could, and tucked her chin over the back of his neck when he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. Sam clutched at her just the same, and she could feel the too-steady breaths he was taking, like he was trying not to hyperventilate. She was in the same boat and she timed her breathing to his. Be a pretty sorry state of affairs if the world ended because the two of them breathed themselves to unconsciousness before they could set things to right.

She snorted, chuckled, and bit down on the inside of her cheek, but she wound up belly-laughing anyway. Sam pulled back enough to raise both eyebrows at her, and Dean shook her head, trying to stop before she started crying; they might start out as tears of laughter, but she didn't think they'd end that way.

"Sorry," she said, when she could catch her breath. She was getting a stitch in her side, right under one of Sam's arms. "It's just sort of absurd, you know?"

"In the how-is-this-my-life sense?" he asked. He rolled his eyes, but he looked at her again when he finished, and, hey, at least he was looking at her now. "Way ahead of you, trust me."

Dean tipped her forehead towards his, resting their faces together. Sam took a breath and held it for a long time, and then exhaled unsteadily. He wasn't shaking, but he kept tensing up against her body, and Dean thought this might be the longest he'd ever been tucked between her thighs without getting hard. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his, rubbing hard enough she'd probably have stubble burn later, if anyone looked for it, as she lowered her face to his neck. She wanted to press her nose to his thrumming pulse and breathe all of him in.

Sam was taking on too big a thing, and she couldn't even offer to take his place. She'd been sidestepped again and again, until it wasn't her fight anymore, and all she could do was wait things out.

"I'm gonna try," Sam said, mostly into her shoulder. She could feel his chest rumble with every word. "I mean, obviously I'm trying, but Dean, if it doesn't work, you gotta know I did everything —"

"Hey," she said, and shook her head, cutting him off. She straightened up and waited for him to look at her, too, before she went on. He swiped at one cheek with the heel of his hand, but Dean's own eyes were dry, thank fuck. She didn't trust herself to keep from crying if she tried to smile, but she lowered her chin a little and looked him in the eyes. "I know, Sammy. There's no one I'd rather count on here than you."

He closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded and pulled away, tugging her off the truck and back onto the ground. "You got the rings?"

She patted her pocket, where they jangled unpleasantly. The sound sort of made her want to hurl. "C'mon."

He took her hand as they walked together towards the house, down a dusty aisle between dead cars, and neither of them let go.


End file.
